


Carefree

by happyisahabit



Series: Starlight Collection [21]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fae!Black Star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/pseuds/happyisahabit
Summary: Carefree // MaStar Week 2020Maka goes to meet one of the Hidden People somewhere Else on her ascension day.
Relationships: Maka Albarn/Black Star
Series: Starlight Collection [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/674591
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Carefree

The Hidden People are a tricky sort, moreso because most people don’t believe in them, try not to believe in them. Lore and folk tales pass from the lips of mothers to warn their children away from the wood just to keep them from getting lost. While children giggle and dare friends to go past this or that over grown tree, the hunters still use flint arrowheads. Adults who claim to know better than to believe in bedtime stories still partake in superstition. Elfshot is common; cold iron is used as much for jewelry and charms as it is for weaponry.

Maka, however, knows better. Just because the Hidden People are hidden, doesn’t make them less real. Just because the Hidden People use only stone, bone and wood for their tools and their trade, doesn’t mean that flint will burn them. Just because her papa warns her from entering the wood, from seeking out rings, doesn’t mean that she will stop.

Their homes weren’t underground. Their clothing wasn’t  _ all _ green. They weren’t cannibals. And their magic was not designed for combat against the ‘superior’ iron wrought weapons of humans.

They were somewhere Else, the forest only a barrier if you didn’t know which trees to slip past, which moss to whisper to. They dressed in any color found in nature: blooming pastels in spring and summer; subdued yet rich tones in autumn; and pale, crisp whites and blues in winter. They ate from the land and gave back what was due. And their magic… was  _ wonderful _ .

So Maka shoulders her bag, sneaking out at first light before her papa is awake. Their house is near the forest, a large meadow of wildflowers and tall grasses between. She weaves a familiar path through the blades as they tickle her legs and hands, coming up to mid-thigh. The earthy smell is nostalgic and she can remember many, many days spent laughing and lounging among the plants here.

It is the particularly carefree laugh of her tiny friend that she seeks now. While he is not Elsewhere, he is tiny enough to sit on her shoulder and hide in her bag as they go into town or lay among the flowers in the meadow. His laughter is bigger than his body- not difficult when his itty bitty wings are smaller than the span of her palm. Maka barely remembers how they met now, so many years having passed since they were small children.

But now, on her ascension day, on the cusp of adulthood in the eyes of her community, Seren had asked her to see him in the forest.

His name was Seren Dywyll, but he had always told her to call him Seren. Despite warnings about giving Hidden Folk her name, giving them power, she had told him to call her Maka. Five year olds have no sense of self-preservation, but Seren had always called her something other than her name anyway, so she felt safe that nothing in their friendship had been controlled or forced. Mak was his favorite name for her, but there were others he's used recently, and it is the thought of those that brings a flush to her face as she reaches the forest’s edge.

The dewey morning light is softer in the wood, sparkling on the blades of grass and leaves like a kaleidoscope. She knows the directions, the twists and turns to take, from his instructions that were whispered in her ear only a fortnight ago. He had sat there, playing with her ash blonde hair, telling her how to find where Else he would be, waiting for her. Seren had left her that day with a soft touch on her cheek, a braid in her tresses and that carefree laughter.

She’d left the braid in since then, carefully washing around it and tucking it behind her ear any time her father was in the room. She told him leaving her hair down was part of growing up, the twin tails of her youth were behind her now that she would be of-age. Maka fingers the braid now, each step towards Seren sure-footed but raising the heat in her face and her pulse in her skin.

When she makes it to the final twist, the final turn before she is Elsewhere, she doesn’t look behind her. 

Her friend is waiting as she slips through the Gap and she cannot contain the gasp that escapes her. Seren had always been small, cute, freckled with a wide and sharp grin. His transparent wings reminded her of the sheen of bubbles in a bath. His bright hair was always as blue as the sky. His tiny hands had nimble fingers that liked to play with her hair, and his feet were always bare so he could feel the earth between his wriggling toes.

_ This _ Seren- he is everything she remembers, but  _ more. _

He has freckles still, splatters across the bridge of his nose that is less of the upturned button she recalls. They spread over his shoulders too, bare to accommodate his wings and the way he likes to feel the wind and rain on his skin. The bubble-film wings are wider, longer, and instead of fluttering quickly like a hummingbird in a blur, they open slowly, the iridescent hues catching the thin morning light in a hypnotizing display. His hair is still bright blue, but it falls in a disheveled but winsome way across his brow and sticks up everywhere else. He is barefoot as expected when he steps towards her and the motion brings her attention to his face again. The wide and sharp grin is shadowed there, hidden under the elation he lights up with at her arrival.

Of course, his eyes are what strikes her most. She had always thought that his eyes were dark; being so small, it was hard to tell. But no, his eyes are blueish green, ringed at the center with flecks of gold and they are  _ luminous. _

A tiny fae on her shoulder or in her bag, he is no longer. Seren in the Elsewhere is  _ beautiful _ .

“Ah, Mak!” his voice rings through the space between them, exactly as she’s known it, but it rings different in her bones. She takes a step towards him before she knows what she’s doing. He takes three. “You’re here, you came…”

Somehow it still feels like he’s whispering in her ear from a perch nestled in her hair. There is almost too much fondness in his eyes now that he is large enough for her to read his full expression.

“Of course I came,” Maka says. He smiles and relieves her of her bag, setting it down on the ground but never breaking eye contact. “How- You’re-”

He laughs at her aborted questions, eyes twinkling as he reaches for her. “There’s more magic here.” It’s his only explanation, but his fingers catch the braid he left in her hair. Seren thumbs over it softly, humming to himself. 

“Why now?” she mumbles, still surprised at how she has to  _ look up to him _ . His hum grows louder and his fingers wind back into her hair in a way that is both familiar and not-  _ because his hands could never have cradled the back of her head this way before _ . Maka can't help leaning into the touch, into his warm and comforting palms.

“Because... “ he draws out the word, eyes flitting over her face in a way she hadn’t noticed before. “I wanted to give you something for your star day.”

Maka vaguely recalls discussions from years past about the difference between their cultures, between star days and ascension day and naming day. Star days mark the night of her birth, but her naming day is one year after she came into the world, and ascension day fifteen after that. All that is lost when he leans closer. Her fingers itch to hold him, but how can she when usually he just wraps himself around two of her fingers?

Seren is tall and broad shouldered and smells of the woods and flowers and his palms are warm against her jaw, his fingers tangled pleasantly in her hair. In a move that is more tentative than any she’s ever seen him make, he lowers his lips to the apple of her cheek, pressing lightly. It tingles as he pulls away.

There is no denying the heavy blush on her face nor in the actual light radiating from his eyes. He vibrates,  _ glows _ with magic and Maka’s hands grasp onto the crooks of his elbows as he continues to cradle her face.

“That was…”

“Magic,” he whispers, ears and nose turning a bit pink as he breaks eye contact. “To, um… protect you, and…”

“And…?” Maka leans towards him, fingers twitching against the inside of his elbows. He flicks his gaze back to her and turns away more, leaning his head back and up. Unfortunately, his avoidance tactic only exposes his neck to her and she can see his pulse battering against his skin and the dry swallow he made.

“...so you can find me anytime you want.”

His voice is quiet and her cheeks burn. She can’t hold all of him in one hand here, but that just means there is more of him to hold. Maka crashes into his chest, arms winding around him tightly, mindful still of his wings. Her head tucks under his chin and she can feel the surprised breath knocked out of him. It is strange, to be wrapped up in him, when he usually is cupped in her hand or tucked in her hair, but it is no less comfortable and the thrill it sets alight in her chest is intoxicating.

Seren hugs her close, a happy sigh breaking up into a small laugh that becomes louder the longer they cling to each other. It’s a carefree noise, just like she came for, but it is also so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't already, be sure to check out the sweet art that soundofez posted to accompany this fic on tumblr! It's super pretty! Also thanks to fez for beta-ing this piece :)


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